Bounty
by DamiaMulder
Summary: Wedge Antilles, Force-trained bounty hunters, what more can I say?
1. Part 1

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone except my bounty hunter, and I'm not making any money off this, so don't sue. Please. I'm poor.  
  
Author's Note: If you've read any of my other stories, you know the drill: ~ ~ for character thoughts and * * for emphasized words. Even if you haven't read any of them, you now know the drill. One thing about my bounty hunter; she speaks with a very heavy accent. I'll try to convey it here, but I'm not sure how effective I'll be, so if anything looks misspelled, it's probably because she's talking.  
  
On with the show. . .  
  
Bounty  
Part 1  
by DamiaMulder  
  
A dark-cloaked figure made its way quickly yet silently down the alley behind the Rogue Squadron pilot's barracks. Crouching beneath a half-open widow, it pulled a Hapan Gun of Command from under the cloak. A slim, long-fingered hand clutched the Gun, holding it at the ready as the figure silently slid through the window.  
  
Once inside, the figure doffed the cloak, folded the thin material, and slipped it inside a pocket in the dark flightsuit she wore. She slipped down the hall, reaching out with weak Force senses to determine where her quarry was. She got a fix and started for the end of the hall and the room there.  
  
About halfway to her target, her danger sense flared. As she looked quickly about for a place to hide she felt someone approaching from the direction she was heading. A sense of despair rose in her, but she pushed it away. There was nowhere to hide and she'd been ordered not to kill anyone. In fact, if she did kill someone, it would show in her payment. She did all she could to make herself inconspicuous, then tried to identify the person approaching.  
  
Dark hair, dark eyes, about average height. She recognized him immediately as the one her employer wanted. She would have preferred to collect him from his quarters, where any sounds would likely be muffled or deadened. Ah, well. At least he was alone. She raised the Gun of Command and pointed it straight at him.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Good night, Wedge," Iella Wessiri said with a smile. She gave him a kiss, then disappeared into her apartment.  
  
As he walked back to Rogue Squadron's barracks, he found himself smiling as he thought back over the evening's events. First, dinner with Iella at a very good Corellian restaurant, then a walk through the oro woods from Alderaan. They'd both enjoyed their time together that night.  
  
He unlocked the front door, then stepped inside, the door automatically locking again when it shut. He was about to enter his room when he felt a chill wind blow through the window at the end of the hall. ~Storm must be brewing,~ he thought, and headed down the hall to shut the window.  
  
About halfway there, he noticed a dark-clothed feminine figure crouched in the shadows by the door to Gavin Darklighter's quarters. He also noticed she had some sort of blaster-like weapon pointed directly at him.  
  
"Don't move. Don't speak," she said. Her voice was scratchy, quiet and heavily accented. "Hends up." After he'd complied, she ran a hand down either side of his body, looking for comlinks and anything that could be used as a weapon. She came away with a holdout blaster and a vibro-shiv, which she tucked into the belt around her hips. "Now, out the window. Quietly." Once outside, she marched him down three blocks, turned left and stopped in a dead-end alley.  
  
"Who are you?" Wedge asked his abductor.  
  
"Thet es not enformation you need to know. I vill not hurt you es long es you obey orders. You are vorth nothing to me, injured or dead," she replied.  
  
"Bounty hunter. That's what I thought. But who--"  
  
"Silence." She waved her hand over a portion of wall that looked like solid duracrete. A panel slid aside and she directed Wedge into the room beyond. She pointed to a chair. "Sit." She surprised Wedge by not tying him down. Instead, she told him, "You move, I shoot," with enough authority that he believed her words. She then went to rummage through the contents of a large wooden chest.  
  
She pulled out several piles of cloth, sorted through them, and put a couple back. She closed and locked the chest, got up, and picked up the piles of cloth. She dropped one armful on the small table next to Wedge's chair, then pointed him to a door.  
  
"Put those on. You ken chenge en there. Eef you are not out en ten minutes, I vill come in to check on you. Eef you are not there, I vill hunt you down. Got et?"  
  
"Yes. Um, is there some name I can call you by? I don't like not having a name to go with a face."  
  
"Fine. You need a name for me? Call me Hope."  
  
"Why Hope?"  
  
"Enough questions. Get dressed."  
  
He did. When he emerged from the room, which turned out to be a 'fresher, Hope was nowhere in sight. There was a small satchel on the floor, propped against one of the table legs. His first impulse was to look through it to see if there was something to help him escape. He pushed that thought away, figuring Hope had a surveillance cam hidden somewhere and was watching every move he made. He decided instead to sit down.  
  
Just before he could, however, the duracrete panel slid open and a drenched and dripping Hope scrambled inside. Apparently the storm he'd felt brewing had broke. He hadn't heard anything  
  
"My ship es scheduled to leave een en hour. Ve leave here een half thet time. Sleep eef you ken en thet time." She looked him up and down and said, "They feet good, no? They look good on you. I'm gled somebody vill get to use them."  
  
"Why do you say that?"  
  
"They belonged to my husbend. Before the Emperor hunted all the Jedi down."  
  
"Your husband was a Jedi?"  
  
"Not only Jedi Knight. Jedi Mester."  
  
"Are you a Jedi?"  
  
"A Jedi bounty hunter? No. I was my husbend's padawan, but I never got the chence to finish my trening before he died."  
  
"Padawan?"  
  
"Epprentice."  
  
"Oh."  
  
They sat in silence for a while, until Hope announced that it was time to leave. Wedge, who was just beginning to doze off, shook his head and yawned, then pulled himself to a standing position.  
  
"Here. Clip this on your belt." She handed him a cylindrical object not unlike the handle of Luke Skywalker's lightsaber.  
  
"Is it--"  
  
"Real? Yes, but don't get eny ideas about escape. Pulling lightsabers out of hends is one Jedi technique I em very good et."  
  
"You are very different from the bounty hunters I've met up with."  
  
"Of course. I em better. You hev not likely met up with meny Force-trained bounty hunters before. There are not meny of us around."  
  
"True enough. Is it still storming out there?"  
  
Hope waved her hand over one of the tiles by the door panel, which slid open. A deafening crack of thunder exploded overhead. Hope pulled her hood up and motioned for Wedge to do the same.  
  
"I guess that answers *that* question," he said under his breath.  
  
They slipped out into the storm.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 


	2. Part 2

Disclaimer: Same as in part one.  
  
A/N: Again, same as in part one.  
  
  
Bounty  
Part 2  
by DamiaMulder  
  
  
"Wedge! Wake up!" Wes Janson pounded on the door to Wedge's quarters. "Wedge!" he shouted again.  
  
"I don't think he's in there. Maybe he stayed at Iella's place," Corran Horn said.  
  
"He's not at Iella's, because I just called her, looking for Wedge. She hasn't seen him since he dropped her off last night. Wedge! Open up!" He went back to pounding and shouting.  
  
Corran closed his eyes for a moment, concentrated, then opened them and said, "Wes, he's not in there. He's not anywhere near. I don't even think he came back last night."  
  
Wes stopped pounding the door. "Where would he have gone? He wouldn't have missed that meeting General Cracken called without good reason. Even if he had good reason, he still wouldn't have missed it. The general wasn't exactly happy with Wedge this morning."  
  
"I'd noticed." Corran wandered down the hall and stopped at the door to Gavin's quarters. "Wes, does Gavin have a lady friend?"  
  
"Not since Asyr died. At least not to my knowledge. Why?"  
  
"Never mind. Stupid question."  
  
"Corran, you're acting weird. Are you feeling all right?"  
  
"Wait a minute. Wes, put in a call to General Cracken."  
  
"Why?" Wes asked, bewildered.  
  
"Just do it."  
  
"All right, all right. What am I supposed to tell him, though? That Wedge isn't in his room and we don't know where he is?"  
  
"Tell him Wedge is missing. I think someone collected on that bounty on his head."  
  
"Wonderful. So, for all we know, Wedge may be dead."  
  
"Wes. . ."  
  
"I think I'll go make that call now."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The boarding ramp lowered with a quiet hum and a small thump as it made contact with the ground. Hope was first down the ramp, followed by Wedge.  
  
"Where are we?"  
  
"Anobis." A curt, one-word answer.  
  
"Why?" he wanted to know next.  
  
"I vill meet someone here who hes coordinates for me. This person vill also hev another mission for me, supposedly. You vill come vith me. If anyone esks your neme, you vill enswer vith Tiernan Ferral, clear? And keep your hood up. Ve are quite a vey out of up-to-date information circles, but someone might still recognize you. I don't need eny more complications then I already hev." She turned and began walking towards what looked to Wedge to be an open-air market.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 


	3. Part 3

Disclaimer: Same as in part one.  
  
A/N: Again, same as in part one.  
  
Bounty Part 3 By DamiaMulder  
  
Wedge trudged through the marketplace, just a step or two behind Hope. She seemed to be wandering aimlessly in and out of shops and between stalls where vendors hawked their wares. One old woman called out to him, "Buy a necklace for your lady? I have a lovely fire-crystal pendant. One hundred fifty credits, but for you, seventy five."  
  
Seeing that Hope had stopped a couple of stalls down, Wedge paused to examine the necklace the crone offered him. ~Iella would like this,~ he thought. the stone looked to be genuine, and at seventy five credits, a fire-crystal was a steal.  
  
"Is it real?" he asked the woman.  
  
"Merly don't sell anything that ain't," the man running the next stall told him, overhearing the conversation. "If she says it's a fire-crystal, you better believe it is."  
  
Wedge nodded in thanks and fished in a pocket for the credits. He paid for the necklace and slipped it into a small pocket inside his tunic.  
  
"Thet vas a good deal on the necklace," Hope said in his ear as he turned away from the old woman. He nearly jumped, but just barely managed to catch himself. "I hev not known Merly to drop her price like thet, though. Perheps you remind her of one of her sons. Ya, thet must be it." She nodded in emphasis. "Hungry?"  
  
"A little," he answered, just as his stomach growled at him.  
  
Hope smiled. "Hungrier then you let on. Come, we go to Salna's bar. Old friend and the food is vunderful." She walked back the way they'd come for a block, took a left, then a right and went down an alley to the next street over. Across the street and down a couple of buildings, a glowing purple sign proclaimed 'Salna's Cantina.'  
  
As promised, the meal was great.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"No, Corran, he's still not here. I'm worried."  
  
"Thanks, Iella. Call if he shows up. In the meantime, try not to worry too much." He signed off, then slumped in his chair and sighed. Two days of searching had turned up nothing. No tracks, no clues whatsoever as to where Wedge had disappeared to. The only thing he could think of was that an extremely good bounty hunter had caught up with him.  
  
Spirits were low among Rogue Squadron. Even the perpetually cheerful, prank-playing Janson was feeling it.  
  
~We'll find you, Wedge,~ Corran thought to himself. ~We'll find you and if necessary, rescue you. I swear it.~  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
They were in hyperspace once again. Wedge thought he would go crazy. Hope had allowed him to be in the cockpit with her, but she hadn't let him fly. It had been a week since he last flew, and it was driving him insane.  
  
The reversion alarm went off, and Hope settled back into the pilot's seat.  
  
They came out right on top of a blue and green world.  
  
"Strap in," Hope ordered. "Ve are lending et these coordinates. You think you vould like to teke her there?" She transferred control of the ship to the copilot's station, where Wedge was seated, without even waiting for his answer.  
  
"Now, don't try enything funny. My employer vishes to see you, safe and unhurt. I vould hate to disappoint." She swivelled her chair around and propped her feet on the chair at the navigator's station.  
  
Wedge flew the small freighter to the exact coordinates, marveling at how the ship handled. It was completely unlike any other freighter he'd piloted before. In fact, it was most like an X-wing in its responsiveness.  
  
He flew over a large estate and realized that the coordinates were right in the middle of the vast expanse of land. As he neared the designated landing zone, he saw it was a small bay, not unlike the ones at Mos Eisley, and that a large house and several smaller buildings were nearby.  
  
As Wedge brought the small ship in for a landing, Hope got up and left the cockpit. She walked to the small cargo bay and lowered the ramp when she felt the slight 'thump' of the landing gear meeting the paved ground of the bay.  
  
After powering down the engines, Wedge went to the cargo bay. Hope was inspecting some crates they'd picked up on Anobis when he walked in.  
  
"Ah," she said. "There you are. You ken help me unload these cretes." She gestured to a small stack of crates at the top of the lowered ramp. "Be cereful vith the top two. They're brekeble. Eef they brek, I hev to go beck to Anobis and buy more." She fixed him with an unreadable stare, then said,"You do *not* vant to know how much thet vhiskey cost."  
  
"No, I'm sure I don't want to know. Don't worry, Hope, I won't drop them."  
  
After the last of the stack of crates had been unloaded, Hope opened one of the boxes that remained on the ship and withdrew two bottles.  
  
"So, what do we do now?" Wedge asked of his abductor.  
  
Hope handed him one of the bottles she carried. "Now, ve vait. Thet's a semple of the vhiskey I bought. Miss St-- eh, my employer says she prefers et over most other Corellian vhiskeys."  
  
"Welcome to my home."  
  
Wedge had heard no footsteps before the vaguely familiar, feminine voice had sounded from behind him.  
  
"Thank you, Luna, for bringing him to me. Your payment will be delivered shortly. Make yourself at home." The woman paused and looked at Wedge, who had turned around to see who was speaking. "Hello, Veggies," she said.  
  
The woman had long blonde hair and brown eyes.  
  
"Syal?" he asked in stunned disbelief. 


End file.
